Seven Minutes
by Katia-chan
Summary: It's been proven that a human body cannot stay still for more then 7 minutes, but what about a soul? can it stay still for that long? It's Ryou's 7th year of owning the ring


Seven Minutes  
  
By Katia-chan  
  
A/N: I learned from a seminar in sixth grade that the body can't physically stay still for more then 7 minutes. It's true! I tried it.  
  
Bakura: doesn't surprise me  
  
Hey! I have a life!...well, not really, but what're you going to do about it.  
  
Anywho, this fic is going to be really bad, and I'm only going to get a few reviews for this, but I really don't care. If I leave an idea alone to long then it starts to bug me. If you liked this story at all, please leave a review. I could really use the kick.  
  
()()()()()()()()  
  
It was his birthday.. Grate, what a joy, nothing could've made him happier. Yah right, he dreaded his birthdays every year. They were a reminder of all the things he didn't have. Caring friends, they were more likely to forget then anything. A loving dad, who wouldn't be home for another 4 months, and an understanding yami. That was hopeless. He didn't even want to think about it.  
  
He groaned and got out of bed to go cook his "Birthday breakfast."  
  
In the kitchen he found Bakura, sitting, staring at the wall. He winced. It was obvious that the spirit had a hang over, and that was sure to make for a few unpleasant birthday surprises.  
  
"What are you staring at runt?" Bakura snapped, whirling to look at him. He flinched as Bakura's cold eyes met his.  
  
"N.nothing Bakura." He flinched even more as he realized his mistake. Before the words he had meant to say could even form on his lips Bakura's hand had left a mark on his cheek, making him stumble backwards.  
  
"I. told. You. Not. To. Use. My. Name. You. Little. Son of a bitch!" Bakura's voice was deadly icy. So cold that his insides froze at the mere sound of it.  
  
Wiping away his tears he made to turn out of the kitchen.  
  
"I'm sorry Yami-sama," he murmured softly. A hand reached out and caught him by the hair.  
  
"That's better, but you still have to be punished for your little slip up earlier my beloved light." There was the voice again, so cold and chilling that it would give you shivers on a summer's day.  
  
"I. I'm sorry!" Ryou yelled as he was kicked in the back of the knee, sending him crashing to the floor.  
  
"You think that's going to get you out of everything, don't you." Bakura sneered down at the trembling boy on the ground. "Well, let me fill you in Ryyoouu, it doesn't work on me." And with that a swift kick to the ribs which made the boy cry out.  
  
"Please." He whispered, but either Bakura had gone deaf, or he just plainly didn't care, because that same spot was assaulted with blows until a crack rang around the room. This was followed by and ear piercing scream from the child on the floor.  
  
"Doesn't that feel good?" Bakura hissed.  
  
"Ye. Yes Yami-sama." Ryou said, just before he went limp from the pain, blackness encircling him like smoke from Birthday candles.  
  
He awoke some hours later in his won bed. This puzzled him for a moment. Bakura would never think of moving him, but he supposed that he had passed out in an inconvenient place.  
  
He tried to get up, but an intense pain filled his chest and he collapsed back to his bed, fighting sobs and coughing up blood. The sweet coppery liquid tasted terrible in his mouth, and he desperately wanted to go wash it out, but since he couldn't get up he simply spat it out on his pillow. What were a few more bloodstains on his bed. There were enough of them.  
  
Rolling over he glanced at the calendar on his wall. It was a duel monsters calendar, and by luck, this month, the month of his birthday, happened to be the change of heart. He loved the picture; it was the prettiest thing in the entire room.  
  
After staring at it for a while he tore it off the wall and flipped through it. It was a neat calendar, and he enjoyed looking at the dates where he'd written things in. Then he got an idea and opened the drawer next to him. This caused more pain then it was probably worth, but he knew that it would hurt worse later, and that he wouldn't be able to get these later.  
  
Opening the drawer he pulled out a thick folder. It was all the calendars since he was born. Maybe it had something to do with his compulsive cleaning nature, but he loved to keep track of things.  
  
Pulling out one of the calendars he looked at the month that held his and Bakura's birthday  
  
September 2, it's my Bday, 11! Bakura's 4th  
  
He had always done that, assigned Bakura a number, not by his real age, or the age he took because he had Ryou's body, but an age of how long he'd been in this present day world.  
  
The small number helped to keep a pinpoint of innocence in a spirit who was beyond all that. He supposed that it also gave him hope. If Bakura was only 5 or 6, then there was a chance of him learning better. A slim to nothing chance, but still a chance .  
  
He set the old calendars back in the folder and took a pen from the bedside. Taking off the cover he wrote in on his birthday, which he'd forgotten to do.  
  
September 2, I'm 15 today, Bakura's 7  
  
There, he capped the pen and, with much groaning, put the calendar back up on his wall.  
  
Many hours later he managed to pull himself out of bed. He hadn't eaten anything yet, and it was almost 2 in the afternoon.  
  
Creeping back into the kitchen he was relieved not to find Bakura there. This should've told him that something was going to happen. The house was much to quiet, but he didn't seem to have the foggiest idea. Though he probably did, we all live in denial.  
  
After cooking himself some lunch he sat down carefully, still wincing at the pain in his ribs. He would have to tend to those soon so that they healed normally.  
  
His lunch succeeded in making him feel happier, but it also brought his sense of awareness up, and he realized that the house was to quiet.  
  
Silently putting his dish in the sink he crept up to his room, where, just as he expected, Bakura sat waiting.  
  
"I thought you'd never finish. Well, no matter, now that you have I can give you your birthday present." Ryou trembled, knowing that his yami had been looking at the calendar.  
  
"Happy birthday," Ryou muttered. It didn't make sense, there was no point to it, and it just got the hand that had been preparing to break him to its destination faster.  
  
"I want you to beg little Ryou, ask for your present."  
  
"No." There was no point in being meek. He was already going to get the crap kicked out of him anyway.  
  
"Good enough."  
  
He couldn't remember what had followed, except for one hard punch to the jaw. After that it was merely a blur of screaming and pain. Pain so unbearable that he had to block it out to keep his sanity.  
  
When he woke a few hours earlier it was in his soul room. He didn't sense any movement, so that meant that Bakura was also in his.  
  
He got up and looked at his swollen face in the mirror and one thought crossed his mind.  
  
No More  
  
He went to the little cabinet and pulled out the long knife. He was going to end this, make the pain go away right now. He could do it. He knew he could. He ran his finger along the sharp edge, drawing blood. Watching it drip off his hand he could almost see Bakura's fascination with the stuff. It was so evil, but yet it gave life. He smiled and wiped the droplets of life off his knife. Then he went across the hall. He would do this, he had to.  
  
He pushed the door to Bakura's soul room open. Bakura looked shocked for a second, then furious.  
  
"What have I told you about coming here?" He growled.  
  
"You told me not to."  
  
"Then, oh stupid light, why in RA's name are you in here? Haven't you had enough for today? I thought I was giving you a break, but I guess you don't want one." Ryou clutched the knife in his hand, preparing himself.  
  
He would've chickened out, if Bakura hadn't started singing, very quietly, and very gently, but so viciously.  
  
"Happy birthday. To you. Happy birthday. To you. Happy birthday, dear Ryou. Happy birthday. To you." That gave him the last will power he needed. He sprang forward and plunged the knife into Bakura's chest. The spirit gave a surprised cry of pain.  
  
"You traitor." He gasped, then tumbled backwards, landing in the puddle of his own blood.  
  
"Happy 7th birthday Bakura."  
  
()()()()()()()()  
  
A/N: I am so evil! Why do I always do this?well, cuz I've lost my mind of course.  
  
I'm not positive that the afore mentioned date is Ryou's birthday, but I'm pretty sure, just let me know if I'm wrong.  
  
If anyone wants it, I can turn this into a longer story, but for now it's going to stay a one-shot.  
  
Leave a review!  
  
TTFN  
  
Katia-chan 


End file.
